


across the room

by IndieBughead



Series: The Bughead Collection of Drabbles [9]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Interpreter! Jughead, UN delegate! Betty, basically just fluff, the UN AU no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 10:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/pseuds/IndieBughead
Summary: A short drabble with Betty as a UN delegate and Jughead as an interpreter.





	across the room

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. An embarrassing one.

 

The room is filling out fast, delegates from all over the world standing up from their designated seats and making small talk with their colleagues as they trickle out into the busy streets of New York.

 

Betty, in turn, is frantically trying to finish the notes she promised she’d be mailing over as soon as the French Ambassador closed his address.

 

She curses Archie for the umpteenth time in the four hours she’s been sitting in for Ms. Johnson, the current Ambassador for the country. If it weren’t for him spilling soda all over his laptop and pleading to borrow hers for a business presentation, on the same day the Ambassador had to travel to Europe for an emergency meeting with other world leaders, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

 

She wouldn’t be hurrying to scribble as much information on her notepad as she is right now-- not even caring that the side of her hand is dragging the ink as she runs it all over the piece of paper.

 

This is the first time she’s ever been given the opportunity to sit in on a session completely on her own, and she knows she has to prove her worth to Johnson or else she’ll never sit here again.

 

Just as she’s looping the double o’s of her last name in her signature, she hears someone clear their throat. It makes her jump in her seat, the sound so close to her ears that a hand automatically flies to her chest, startled.

 

“Um, the session is over.”

 

Betty stands up so quickly that the headphones she hadn’t realized she’d still been wearing snap from over her ears down to the floor, their cord pulling the mess of papers and pens on her desk down as well. She hears a deep laugh and she turns around to see if there’s anyone in the room, only to find a janitor sweeping in the back. But then her eye catches a small movement from above where she knows the French interpretation booth sits and she knows the laughing is coming from there.

 

Embarrassed, Betty crouches down to gather her mess as quickly as she can, the chuckles only increasing in volume as she takes the headphones and tentatively places one near her left ear. The interpreter clears his throat again, “You’re still connected and I kinda can’t leave the booth until there’s no one else so…”

She sets her headphones down and rushes to the side exit, oblivious to the pair of blue eyes that follow her from above.

 

A month later, she’s asked to step in again. In the time that has passed since her incident, she’s seen who she highly suspects is the guy from the booth hanging out with the rest of the interpretation crew in the cafeteria, and she’s pretty certain he’s the tall one with the crown shaped beanie—the very cute one, too.  She heard him once thanking a lunch lady in French and the subsequent laugh that erupted when said lady blushed profusely over it was the same she’d heard on her headphones that day.

 

It’s also the very same voice she’s listening to right now as a French activist delivers her speech on stage. Armed with curiosity, she swivels her chair slightly to the side so she can crane her neck as discreetly as she can towards the back, where she knows his booth is.

 

Betty lifts her eyes only to find that, even with the distance between them, the guy she’s seen around is looking right back at her. Almost unconsciously, the corners of her mouth tick up in a smile.

 

There’s a stutter, and an “ _um_ ” followed by a clearing of a throat as the guy composes himself and gets back to interpreting the content of the speech, a beat or two behind.

 

She smiles to herself for the rest of the speech, and she hopes no one notices how enthusiastically she claps when it’s done.

 

 

This time, she lingers behind on purpose. She’s deliberately placing her colored pens as per their respective order in the rainbow when she feels the static in her ears start again.

 

“Hi um, I’m sorry about laughing at you the other day, I saw you around and wanted to apologize but uh—“he pauses to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

 

Betty turns around but finds herself shuffling in her shoes when she realizes she can’t really talk back, so she gives him a wave that she hopes transmits _don’t worry about it_ and shrugs.

 

She sees him stand up from his own chair as he smiles down at her. “I’m Jughead.”

 

Betty returns the smile and is about to figure out a way to sign out her name when an idea occurs to her. She reaches behind her and holds up her place card, bold black letters that she hopes he’s able to read.

 

“Betty Cooper,” he tests out with what look like narrowed eyes, giving her a small smile before his eyes dart down and up again. “Would you maybe like to join me for coffee?”

 

She thinks her nod is visible all the way from space.  

**Author's Note:**

> Hi you guys,
> 
> Another drabble (this time unsolicited) to add to this collection.
> 
> Thank you to all who read, you are always so sweet.
> 
> As always, come find me at indiebughead on Tumblr.


End file.
